The Lovels of ArdenBraddon, M. E. (Mary Elizabeth)
General
The Lovels of Arden
Braddon, M. E. (Mary Elizabeth)
England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
"I trust you alarm yourself needlessly about your father, my dear Lady
Laura," he said presently; "but, upon my word, you cannot be more anxious
to see this affair settled than I am. I want to spend my honeymoon at
Lyvedon, the quietest, most picturesque old place you can imagine, but not
very enjoyable when the leaves are falling. My good uncle has set his heart
on my borrowing his house for this purpose, and I think it would please
Geraldine to become acquainted with an estate which must be her own in a
few years."
"Unquestionably," cried Lady Laura eagerly; "but you know what Geraldine
is, or you ought to know--so foolishly proud and sensitive. She has known
you so long, and perhaps--she would never forgive me if she knew I had
hinted such a thing--had half-unconsciously given you her heart before she
had reason to be assured of your regard: and this would make her peculiarly
sensitive. Now do, dear George, press the question, and let everything be
settled as soon as possible, or I have an apprehension that somehow or
other my sister will slip through your fingers."
Mr. Fairfax looked wonderingly at his charioteer.
"Has she said anything to put this fancy into your head?" he asked, with
gravity rather than alarm.
"Said anything! O dear, no. Geraldine is the last person to talk about her
own feelings. But I know her so well," concluded Lady Laura with a solemn
air.
After this there came a brief silence. George Fairfax was a little puzzled
by my lady's diplomacy, and perhaps just a little disgusted. Again and
again he told himself that this union with Geraldine Challoner was the very
best thing that could happen to him; it would bring him to anchor, at any
rate, and he had been such mere driftwood until now. But he wanted to feel
himself quite a free agent, and this pressing-on of the marriage by Lady
Laura was in some manner discordant with his sense of the fitness of
things. It looked a little like manoeuvring; yet after all she was quite
sincere, perhaps, and did really apprehend her father's death intervening
to postpone the wedding.
He would not remain long silent, lest she should fancy him displeased, and
proceeded presently to pay her some compliments upon the roans, and on her
driving; after which they rattled on pleasantly enough till they came to
the green slope of a hill, where there was a rude rustic stand and a railed
racecourse, with a sprinkling of carriages on one side and gipsy-tents on
the other.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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